


'cause i love the way you wake me up

by GoldenBadWolf



Series: you can sing to it, dance to it, fall in love with it. [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 06:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20092510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenBadWolf/pseuds/GoldenBadWolf
Summary: hello i hope you enjoy bc i rly love these four with all of my heart





	'cause i love the way you wake me up

**Author's Note:**

> hello i hope you enjoy bc i rly love these four with all of my heart

_She’s like cold coffee in the morning_  
_ I’m drunk off of last night’s whiskey and coke_  
_ She’ll make me shiver without warning_  
_ And make me laugh as if I’m in on the joke_  
_ You can stay with me forever_  
_ Or you could stay with me for now_

* * *

It was the one business that her father started and actually turned a profit before he died. Not that she was ever there for his other failed ventures. But Bean Me Up sat in central London, on a corner, surrounded by other businesses and cheap flats. It wasn't a large or nice shop. The best way to describe it was homey.

The furniture was mix and matched. There were a few high top tables with stools. The rest of the seating being made up of arm chairs, coffee tables, and two couches. The decor was clearly recycled. Never following a central theme. Just whatever suited her dad's fancy.

Her mum insisted on keeping one part of the wall empty. For her to decorate as she grew up. It was full now. Of random cards, photos, paintings, and drawings. She recently put a page of a book up.

Because, as Jack said, "Why the hell not?"

It was never apart of her plan to work in the shop full time. But after refusing to get her A-levels and dropping out of school to try and discover the world on the dime, here she was. It wasn't terrible. And there were more pros than cons. The only thing that really bothered her was the fact that she was stuck. Also the fact that Rose wasn’t a morning person. Never would be.

But she had to open every Sunday morning. At first, it was a bother and underwhelming. Setting up old machines that they couldn’t afford to upgrade, for Ianto to come in and start baking, and the register. The worse part of it was standing alone and having the view of the sunrise blocked. Where's the joy of being up this early if all you could see was the sky go from black, grey, to blue?

Luckily, most of the first customers in were old regulars. Heading to church or to work. Some had known Rose since she was a child and were very aware of her lack of enthusiasm for mornings. Even those who didn’t know her didn’t question the faux charm she had. If anything, they were about to offer the same as they went off to work their own jobs.

It wasn't anything stressful. Around nine was when the rush would begin. By that time, Jack was there and ready. So there was rarely a fuss.

Mind, the teasing and bickering.

Outside of those who’ve just gotten out of church, woken up on their off day, or were looking for something to do, uni students were their main consumer. They were the main residents of the flats surrounding the shop. And majority of the time, Sundays meant coming in for a latte at an attempt to sooth a hangover and get to working on homework.

So they kept quiet. If they stayed to study at all.

There was a particular student- rather pair of students- that came to mind.

Donna and John were flatmates. And they often got loose on a Saturday night after a weeks worth of classes and work. Sometimes, John would come in still drunk on his whiskey and coke. But it was only because he refused to break tradition.

Rose wasn’t the biggest fan the first few times serving him. A groggy hungover mess trying to order an overly complex espresso and tea while your line was slowing moving out the door wasn’t a great opener. But he was pretty. She blamed the soft brown eyes and fluffy hair for giving him so many chances.

Jack blamed the fact that he was the first pretty boy she's met who wasn't skimming through life. And the fact that he was rich. Rose gave him a good slap the first time he said it though.

There was also Donna. Who joined in on the jabbing jokes and would order for John if it came to it. They’d sit in the corner of the shop, Donna wrote while John studied. More recently, Rose had been finding her way over and starting conversation.

It was how she learned of this so called "Tradition." Origin story of how it started between the two of them was one morning they woke up in John’s bed at a mate’s party. There was a scuffle when Donna realized where she was- resulting in a slap to John’s cheek. After an argument turned conversation, with both hungover but too stubborn over work and uni to give a day’s rest. Walking down the street aimlessly, they ended up at Bean Me Up for the first time. And the rest is history.

They’ve since learned what time’s best to come in. It was always after the rush. Long after if John was still drunk. Not that it happened quite as often anymore. Donna mentioned something about family intervention when he had fallen asleep in their corner once.

Today, Rose was sipping on tea and reading Oliver Twist when they came in. She didn’t even notice that someone was in the shop until Jack shouted,

“Well if it isn’t our favorite duo of long lost siblings!”

“Oi, watch it, American.” Donna shouted right back.

Rose glanced a the clock and up towards John, “You’re late.”

He shrugged, “Not a lord of time, am I?”

She rolled her eyes, “The usual complexity or are you tryin’ to stump me again?”

“It’s been about two years now,” He smirked, “I've realized that you’re a bit too clever for me to stump.”

She punched in the usual espresso and tea- only charging him half price- and held out her hand for the exact change.

It was routine. They went to the two arm rests in the corner while Rose made their coffees and tea. Bickering about something from the previous night while opening textbooks and notebooks.

John had his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. Sandshoes, as Ianto fondly named them, waving back and forth. He went with the cuffed jeans today. Rose didn't notice though. Nor the fact that he was wearing new glasses and chewing on the end of his pen. Or that his oxford was wrinkled and already rolled to his elbows.

It wasn’t fair. For him to look so good so damn easily.

“He’s quite foxy if I say so myself,” Jack whispered and nudged her shoulder with his own.

“Bug off.”

“You always stare. Why can’t I?”

Rose poked his chest with each word, “You’ve already got a man.”

Jack fought off her finger and made the passing joke that he and Ianto were up for three. She rolled her eyes. Calling him selfish as she finished the drinks. Writing “Doctor” on John’s.

It was what he was studying to be. A doctor of astrophysics. Minoring in history. Taking every possible science class he could on the side. He had the mind built for it. Rolling formulas, theories, and laws off the tip of his tongue mid-conversation. Explaining why the hell something was the way it was. He knew a whole lot more than Rose. Considering she made a D in science for her GCSEs.

She walked over and handed them their drinks and gave Donna her special pastry from Ianto. John gave Rose a mischievous look before trying to grab a piece of it. Donna swatted his hand away and scolded him as if he were a dog. He responded by giving a pitiful pout before returning back to his textbook.

“Anything interesting happen in the last week?” Donna was here for the comedy of customer service.

Rose glanced back at Jack. He was waiting for her to do it too. Giving her a chuck and thumbs up. She pulled a chair out from the table across from them and sat. Her and Donna discussed a rather odd encounter with some tourists. Caused by a language barrier and the fact that they were in the completely wrong place. Donna talked about her job. She dropped out of school to write and was now a secretary. She loved keeping Rose up with the drama of the large business. From the way she told it, it was more of a daytime soap opera rather than a law firm.

They sat there chatting for a while. Much longer than usual. To the point that John was no longer offering little quips to the conversation, but genuinely involved in it. Drifting from one topic to another. It was alright until they’d somehow gotten on the topic of the future and Rose’s heart sank slightly. There wasn’t anything huge planned for her. Not compared to the two of them.

“What’s you’re plan, Rose?” John asked once he finished his ramble of starting his own company. TARDIS, he called it.

“Oh, I dunno,” She glanced to the ground, trying to had the fact that she didn't have one, “Probably gonna be stuck here. Taking care of this place.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

Rose looked back up to a rather considerate face, “ ‘m not sure. Never really had a plan. Love traveling though.”

“Why don’t you figure out something with that?”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve worked here all my life. No chance of me going anywhere exotic with a coffee cart.”

Donna snorted, “I think a spaceship would fit the name a bit better.”

They all laughed and the conversation carried onto something lighter.

Jack had called Rose back over once John and Donna left. Curious to as why John handed her his phone. Trying to get all the details he missed of the conversation while restating the fact that John had heart eyes while looking at her. Especially when the subject of futures came up. She could only roll her eyes. Not wanting to travel any deeper into that idea.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. Hell, she wasn't sure if she could even deny it.

But it was the fact that they were from completely different worlds. He grew up posh. Traveled across Europe and visited North America a few times. Was only enrolled in pretentious all-boys schools. Had family scattered throughout Parliament and official things. His brother worked in Downing street and was working on a campaign for prime minister. She grew up in cheap dingy flats, and still lived with her mum. Wasn’t well traveled or cultured in anything. There was rarely spare change lying around. Never finished school, wasn’t talented or specialized in anything, and was just, well, Rose.

* * *

  
_(It was at these points in why she hadn't made a move that Jack would shout, "Fight the system! Love for all!" while throwing his fist in the air.)_

* * *

  
Rose would close for the rest of the week. It was routine. Mickey opened and went to work a second job once Rose showed up. Nothing out of the ordinary. The store may have a pop or two during the evening hours, but closers were there to clean and prep for the morning. Not that there was ever more than one person there past four pm. Rose was expedient at prepping and cleaning; considering she had been helping her mother with it since she was seven. Even if it was Mickey’s mess she was picking up after.

So she pulled a broken stool from the back and sat behind the register. She was reading Donna’s latest recommendation, Murder on the Orient Express. She wasn’t very far into it but it was interesting. She had fallen in love with classic literature since meeting Donna. She wanted to give Rose something to do when she was bored like this. Meaning almost every week she gave her a recommendation. Rose’s favorite author was Charles Dickens at this point.

Her phone began buzzing with a series of texts.

_John: Hey._

_John: So I'm sorta in a situation._

_John: Are you at the cafe?_

She quickly responded with a yes and offered to try and help. Assuming it was what he was looking for.

It had been about a week since she gave him her number. Only a few days since she admitted it to Jack. John tended to text her when he was bored in class or knew she was closing.

He also had a tendency to send her some meme that reminded him of her in the middle of the night. And to text her something personal when he was drinking.

Jack claimed that it was his form of flirting and that Rose should feel flattered. Rose didn't really feel anything except concerned.

The bell above the door chimed and John stepped inside, something in his face screamed brooding. His normally fluffy hair now glued to his forehead by the apparent rain. He looked at Rose and only offered a sigh.

“Hey?”

He pulled a stool from the high top table in front of the counter and sat in front of the register. A sudden wave of insecurity seemed to wash over him, “You aren’t busy… are you?”

Rose waved her book in the air and shook her head, “Rarely am at this time. What’s this situation?”

“Family made me mad. When I got back to the flat, Donna was up in arms about something a friend of hers did and was taking it out on me. Was sitting on a bench for a bit before I remembered you closed tonight.”

Rose chuckled, “I’m really last resort, huh? If the bench in the rain comes to mind before me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighed, going to run his hands through his hair before realizing it was no longer in its typical style.

Rose laughed again, leaning underneath her to grab a few rags for him, “Wanna dry off?”

Once he had, he started to talk about what happened. His father and mother took him to lunch. Rather than it being a pleasant catch up, it was more of a lecture and attempt to manipulate him into going into politics rather than science.

“Kept bringing up my brother,” His jaw clenched, “Golden child, he is.”

What made it worse was the fact that they kept on going on about how it was the only path for him. How he could easily fit the character of a politician, if he got his mind out of such unnecessary things. And he was letting it get to him.

“Is it wrong for me to do this, Rose? I mean, they’ve already got once son in Downing Street, why need two?” A sense of anguish settled over his words.

“It’s your life now. Has been for at least the past two years. I think it’s right as long as you’re happy.”

John offered her a small smile, “Sounds like you’ve gone through it too.”

“Who do you think really runs this place?”

* * *

  
_ (Rose tried to get him to relax while she closed. It wasn't like she had to do much. Count the drawer, wash a few dishes, it wasn't anything she new. Except for the mountain of bubbles that John managed to make in the dish sink. She decided the aftermath was left to Mickey)_

* * *

One thing lead to another and John found himself sleeping on Rose Tyler’s couch. It was rather cramped, a little more than his ankles hanging over the edge, but it wasn’t terrible. They watched telly for a bit after they got to the flat. Some guilty pleasure reality show of hers. Ate her "late dinner" while watching it. He scoffed at it at first. But found it more of a comedy than drama.

Her mum was long asleep. Rose assured him that she wouldn’t mind, that Jack and Mickey were once strays that they took in. He found himself not minding being called a stray. Quite comforting in a way.

She was a comfort for him. Reminding him that there are people living relatively simple lives and still have problems that could determine which way their life headed. And she never held where he came from against him. Never brought up wealth when he complained. Something Donna would often bring up. Saying he was privileged. Frustrating as it was, he knew they both had tougher hardships than him growing up. Probably a bit more than being jealous of an older brother and the famous kid at school.

He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep. At some point the mother had yelled at her son-in-law and everyone in the family was in quarrels. He faintly remembers Rose washing her dish and kissing his forehead before heading to her bedroom. Despite the small size of his bed, he found that it was the best sleep he’s had in a while. Or it might’ve been the fact that he hadn’t slept in a few days.

While falling asleep was pleasant, the wake-up call was not. Well, not in the beginning.

“Who the hell are you?!” A shrill voice rang throughout the flat.

He cracked open his eyes to see a woman standing over him in her dressing gown and holding a mug. The blonde hair and expressive eyes- which were rather furious at the moment- gave away who she was. The legend herself, Jackie Tyler.

“Uh, John Smith?” He winced, afraid of another shrill.

Her expression changed instantly.

“Oh, well, little strange seeing you on my couch. But I’ve made some tea if you’re interested.” She looked back at the door behind her, “Rose won’t be up for another hour or two. Not a morning person, her.”

He gave her an awkward smile and went to sit up. She walked back into the kitchen and hummed.

“Uh, where’s the bathroom?” He asked. There were only four doors in the hall but he didn’t want to risk looking like he was snooping.

“Second door from the front. There should be an extra toothbrush under the sink. You want some toast with your tea?”

“Yes, please.”

He made his way into the bathroom. Unlike the one in his family’s home, it was clearly lived in. Makeup and hair products scattered across the counter, sticky notes on a few bottles that said “MINE! Do NOT touch.” In familiar handwriting. There were a few along the edge of the mirror that passed compliments and I love yous. It was sweet.

Once he found the spare toothbrush and brushed his teeth, he made his way back into the living room where Jackie was watching the morning news. He sat in the arm chair that Rose was in the night before and picked up his mug and toast from the coffee table. They sat in silence for a bit, watching the news until something about Parliament came up and a relative was bought up. He could never really escape, could he? He sighed and took a sip of the tea.

“Oh my god,” He looked up at Jackie in shock, “Ms. Tyler, this is amazing.”

“Please, don’t call me that. Ages me,” She laughed, “But you know, Rose had to learn it from somewhere.”

He smiled, “Yeah?”

Jackie hit mute on the TV, “Used to come with me to that damn shop everyday. Had to open and close it myself till she was old enough to rope her friends into it.”

“She’s mentioned you a few times, talked about how great you were.”

Jackie smiled softly, “Done the same for you as well. Say, did she ever tell you about the time she burnt her cheek in the kitchen? Not much of a scar anymore, but she was running through while an oven door was open. Ran into it while looking at god-knows-what. Embarrasses her to this day.”

And they started sharing stories of Rose. Well, mainly Jackie. She spoke of her daughter with the same pride her daughter spoke of her. Even if they were stories of running off and finding trouble on school trips, being caught out late, and choosing all the wrong guys.

“She wants to travel. Always has. Tended to choose the grungy musicians over anyone else. Probably because she thought she could help them more than the traveling that came with the career.”

“She talked about it the other morning. Told her she could figure something out. She said she didn’t think a coffee cart would get her very far.”

Jackie chuckled, “She’s got the best of her father and me. A little bit of the worse. But I think that she’s ambitious like him and stuck in old ways like me.”

“She’s brilliant is what she is, I don’t think she realizes it.” It slipped from John’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. He could feel his cheeks start to warm.

“She says the same about you. Well, minus the realizing part. Thinks you’re a bit full of it sometimes.”

He shrugged, “Why hide such superior intelligence and genius ideas?”

Jackie just laughed and shook her head. The door behind him creaked and Rose emerged with hair all over the place. A questioning look on her face. And a jolt rush through his spine- he felt very aware and awake suddenly. So that’s what she looks like in the mornings.

“Heard your shrill this mornin’ mum. Figured since I didn’t hear a second I wouldn’t have to intervene. Seems like I was right.” She looked rather annoyed.

Jackie rolled her eyes, “Coulda left me a note or something. Been a while since I woke up to one of your strays on my couch.”

“Could say the same to you.”

For some reason, John found himself laughing. Rose just sneered and went into the bathroom. Jackie got up and started making another round of tea. They both came back into the living room at the same time. Jackie handed him his third tea and went to grab the phone. Rose took hers and urged him to follow out the front door.

“She’s loud and obnoxious on the phone.” She explained as she walked towards the stairwell.

“Loud enough to hear on another floor?”

Rose scoffed, “Sometimes.”

* * *

  
_ (Anxiety ran through him as she opened the fire hatch but he didn't try to stop her)_  
  


* * *

She had taken him to the roof of the building. They didn’t say anything, not that they needed to. She could see him looking at her in the corner of her eye.

“She told you the oven door story, didn't she?”

John smiled, “Yeah. How old were you when that happened?”

“Seven. Who let’s a seven year old play in a kitchen?”

“I’ve got a huge scar on my leg from the time my brother and I were playing knights.”

“With actual swords?” She looked at him with a skeptical look.

He shrugged, “Didn’t realize he had a real one. Carried it like it was plastic. Sliced right through my plastic sword and my thigh. Rough few weeks for him. Wasn’t the pride and joy or center of attention.”

“How old were you two?”

“I was probably ten or eleven. He was probably sixteen or seventeen. Old enough to know what he was doing.”

Rose couldn’t help but feel bad for him. From everything he had told her through small talk, drunken texts, and the night before, it was clear that he didn’t really feel a bond with them. She couldn’t have imagined how lonely it must’ve been growing up. Knowing he didn't like the people who considered him a friend. He has never been close to anyone. It made her feel something quite heavy to imagine going through life like that.

“If you could go anywhere in the world- right now- where would it be?” He asked suddenly.

“Why?”

He waved his hand in the air, “Don’t worry about it. Just answer.”

“Barcelona.”

“Spain? Oh,” Something rumbled in his throat, “Been there a few times. Never made it to the capital of Catalonia, though.”

And then they were laughing. Genuine, natural laughs.

“Would you want to go with me?” This time the question was hesitant. There was a shade of red spreading to his cheeks.

“I mean, why not?”

* * *

  
_ (It was the beginning of something that would keep his cheeks red, he soon realized.)_

* * *

Three months later they were in Madrid, something he insisted they visited first. It had been a strange three months, if anything. Because now her and John were practically inseparable. Crashing at each other’s flats, he would run into the shop before and between classes, she’d bring him things he’d left behind, and random calls at absurd hours of the night where the only words spoken were “Get dressed. Be ready in thirty.”

Her mother was far past the honeymoon period. So no more quiet hours in the morning when he slept on the couch. She’d often wake up to find him asleep at the foot of her bed on the floor. Not that it was a bad thing. Rose thought her mum’s pampering was getting to his already massive ego of his.

Jack’s taunting didn’t ease up either. Only grew stronger with each shift where she walked in either clearly wearing the clothes from the night before or one of John or Donna’s shirts. It was usually Donna’s. Since John was possessive over his clothes and only wore oxfords or shirts that went past Rose’s thighs. Also because it would set Jack on fire with questions. The most common and taunting one being “Did you two share a bed yet or what?”

Donna was glad to have someone who didn’t look at John as if he was royalty as well. Who noticed his impulsive and annoying ticks and antics. Rose didn’t mind them as much as she did. But definitely noticed them. Especially when few people were around.

Like right now. As they stood in front of the National Library of Spain, he was rattling off facts like the amount of books that were in the shop, how it’s the largest library in Europe, and any other fact he could manage to make clear.

He only stop talking and looked down at her when she tugged on his hand.

“You can continue to try to impress me when we get inside.”

He winked in response.

* * *

  
_(They got kicked out when he started arguing over the "facts" in some Russian history book. Declaring it a fraud before tossing it to the side to grab another. Not many people were happy about the smirks and giggles they left with.)_

* * *

Later that night, they ended up at a rather nice restaurant. It had been a long day of tourist attractions filled with little known facts. But he found that he couldn’t stop smiling. It had been a while since he’d been like this. And he was beginning to realize that he was like this because of her.

He’d was really going on a whim three months ago. Impulse control had been long gone before they had even made it out of the flat. And then the next day he was withdrawing money from his saving and planning this. It felt like it was only a week ago.

Everything he was doing with and for her was rather impulsive. Something that Donna urged him to learn. Step away from the life of keeping the “Clean” look for press, not keeping everyone just outside of arm’s reach. He was learning how to be someone he wanted. Rose was a large part of it.

She’d take him to typical teenage hideaways, what it meant to go out someone that wasn’t just a house party, run away from authority, just be reckless for once in his life. And she did it with her hand in his.

There were press articles. Of course. Why would someone of such high status mess around with a common girl? An American? A high class university dropout?

He received nearly constant phone calls, emails, and texts. Reminding him that he needed to lay low. Keep the look that was given to him at an age where he couldn’t understand why. Think of his brother’s campaign. Think of what his grandfather built for him.

What worried him most was Rose. Her picture in articles and papers making her out to be someone scanty and untrained. Which was far from her. She never mentioned them though. The only one who really picked up on it all was Jack. Who claimed,

“What? Let me live in the limelight a little. I’m just an sweet old American boy trapped in Britain by military parents?”

Rose waved her hands in front of his face, “Earth to John? Can the space man hear anything?”

He jumped and swatted it away, “Sorry. Was just thinking.”

“Well don’t hold back now.”

He felt his body pull in on itself. How was he supposed to explain everything to her?

“You just- you’ve done a lot for me Rose. Got me out of some hole I didn’t realize I was in. I appreciate it. Truly appreciate it.”

She smiled, “Just one glass of wine in Spain is all it takes? Maybe we should take a bottle back to the hotel and see if you really open up.”

“Because you absolutely adore a hungover John.” He felt his blush only grow warmer as he rolled his eyes.

“I might if I’m in Spain.” She offered.

They finished dinner with something tense settling over the two of them. It wasn’t bad. But it was evident. Even more so as they walked out of the restaurant with Rose holding a bottle of wine.

They wondered along the streets. Sneaking sips of it in alleyways or shadowed corners. There was a hum in the air. It felt great. Because once the bottle was empty and thrown away, she grabbed his hand and took off at a run. He didn’t really question it. Just followed. Letting the buzz take him over as he laughed while running through groups of other tourists. It was fun. Letting out whoops and giggles; having people stare as they continued to run; not worrying about a single thing except not letting go of Rose’s hand.

And they found themselves in a park. Surrounded by the flowers she was named after. Or were they named after her? He decided that the latter was a much better idea. Much more significance in it.  
And she was laughing again. Glorious and beautiful laughter ringing through the night. It made is heart soar and beat as if they were two.

He wasn’t drunk off the alcohol. Not entirely. He was drunk off of Rose Tyler’s tongue-touched smile, the way her hand settled perfectly in his, the way her eyes seemed to reflect the stars he’d grown so fondly of when she looked at him.

And her hands were behind on his cheeks and she was tugging him towards her.

Their noses bumped together and he wondered if his lips were going to miss hers as he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t really care. There was always future attempts.

Her breath was a sharp intake once their lips actually met. And they were frozen like that for a moment. Before she smiled and giggled and he couldn’t help but return the actions. He could feel himself practically glowing each time her breath drifted across his chin. And they were just laughing. The odd couple in the middle of a garden of roses, sharing something that was long overdue.

* * *

  
_ (Of course, by the time they made it back to their hotel- with a second bottle of wine- the kisses weren’t as light as the first. )_

* * *

She woke to the smell of coffee. Her nose twitched and she already had her eyebrows furrowed. It was too early. Far too early to be awake. Especially with this large of a headache.

She relented. Curious to why the hell coffee was the sent she had to wake up to, she opened her eyes. It was just barely dawn. The only light source being the dim lamp opposite of her. Majority of its light being blocked, though.

Because next to her, John sat with hair far beyond messy and shirtless. Scrolling through his phone in one hand with a mug of coffee in the other. She watched him for a few minutes. Drifting in and out of sleep. He scrunched his nose at whatever he was looking at. Sometimes letting out a scoff or single chuckle. He was making an effort to be quiet. He was doing it for her. Because he knows she hates mornings.

She knew she was falling in love and didn’t mind as long as it was this.

He finally noticed she had woken when he sat his mug on the night stand just a little too hard. He glanced down at her to see a small grin with her eyes closed.

“Of all the times I’ve seen you wake up, that’s the first it’s been with a smile.” He said as he dropped his phone and went back to lie down with her.

She only hummed in response.

“I was gonna make you tea,” His voice was a soft whisper, “But I’m pretty rubbish at it.”

“So you settled for coffee?” She opened her eyes to see the softest smile on his face.

He spoke when it reached his eyes, “Just for the sentimental value.”

They both giggled. She was still far too tired. But far from grumpy.

“We’ll continue this when I’m actually awake.” She pushed his shoulder to where he was lying on his back and crawled over to him to lay her head on his chest and drape her arm across him.

He grabbed his phone again and hummed, “How long is that gonna be?”

She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, “Forever.”

“Only for you, Rose Tyler.”

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the first fanfic i ever wrote was when i was twelve and it was a tenrose coffee shop au. i thought about that a lot when writing this.
> 
> title and opening song: cold coffee by ed sheeran
> 
> find me on tumblr: goldenbadwolf


End file.
